AFTERMATH
by Patcat
Summary: Set after Season 4's WANT
1. Chapter 1

AFTERMATH

Chapter 1

Assistant District Attorney Ron Carver usually resented the presence of social workers, but this was one time he welcomed the quiet, no-nonsense woman serving in that capacity in his office. She separated him, figuratively and literally, from the angry and grieving trio sitting at the large table in his office.

"Do you mean to tell me, Mr. Carver," the grey haired man hissed, "this monster, this thing that destroyed the brain of out little girl, is going to live?"

"He killed my baby, and he gets to spend his life living off the taxpayers of the state?" one of the two women asked. The other clutched the grey haired man's arm and sniffled into a tissue.

"I'm sorry," Ron Carver said for the thousandth time in an hour. "Mr. Tagman confessed to his crimes. I can't seek the death penalty. My hands are tied."

"Tagman," the man said. "He doesn't deserve a name...he's a thing...I hope he dies in his prison...horribly..."

His wife spoke for the first time. "Mr. Carver...our baby...she was a straight A student all through school...grade school, high school, college...she was  
an athlete...she worked hard...she loved music and art, and she wanted to start therapy programs for children. She played the piano and sang. She devised complicated financial programs for her company...and now...now she can't remember her own name."

"I...Mr. Tagman will be in prison for life," Carver said feebly.

The wife looked at him with desperate, pleading eyes. "So will my daughter."

As the trio left, Carver silently cursed Robert Goren. "He doesn't have to deal with this...with the consequences of his actions," Carver thought. "With the results of his psychological abstractions...it's a game to him, nothing more...pitting and putting criminals and victims and attorneys against each other on some chess board in his head." Carver shook his head. The attorney was convinced sometimes that one of Goren's greatest pleasures must be finding ways to irritate ADA Ron Carver. He was also occasionally convinced that the rumors that floated from the NYPD over to the prosecutor's office might have more than a grain of truth--the rumors that the reason Detective Robert Goren got into the heads of the worst cases so well was because he was two steps away from being one himself.

"He's not a head case," Goren's partner Alex Eames had insisted one evening when Carver had stopped for drinks with the two detectives. They were celebrating a tough victory, one made possible by the methods Carver often criticized. Carver liked Eames--nearly everyone liked Eames--in spite of the fact she frequently scared him more than Goren. She was tough, smart, and honest, even when she was arguing. Goren was collecting their drinks, and Carver had made a comment about the seeming ease with which Goren had turned a schizophrenic brother against his scheming older sibling. Eames rose to her partner's defense.

"He's had a tough background, and a lot of experience with manipulation. I know people think he pulls this stuff out of the air, but he works really, really hard." Eames gave Carver a tough look. "By the time he reaches them, he's worked on his conclusions."

But even Eames seemed infuriated with Goren for his actions during the Tagman case, and Carver knew that Captain James Deakins was furious with the detective. After Goren coerced the confession from Tagman, Carver was so filled with rage he feared he might physically attack Goren, a stupid move considering the detective's considerable advantages in size and training. "Although," Carver thought, "Goren gave every indication he wouldn't have fought back." Upon leaving the interrogation room, Goren had meekly presented himself to Carver and Deakins. Deakins had quietly and professionally dismissed Carver. Carver turned briefly to see Goren following Deakins into the captain's office, and he sensed the resulting session was not pleasant for Goren.

"Well, so be it," Carver thought. "Goren doesn't have to deal with the survivors...to explain to them why a monster will live when their daughters won't. He doesn't have to deal with the aftermath."

End Chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Captain James Deakins took a sip of his bourbon and leaned back in his chair.

"So," his wife Angie asked him, "what was it today? The Chief of Detectives? The Mayor? Ron Carver? Or Bobby Goren?"

Deakins smiled at her. "Carver would be pleased to be in most of that company," he answered. "I doubt Goren would be. No, today I got Carver complaining about Goren."

"Ha," she said. "Two for one. The Tagman case, again?"

"Yea." Deakins shifted in his chair. He did his best to keep his work from invading his home, but there were cases that seeped in past the locks and bolts. Fortunately, Angie knew and accepted this.

"You know, Jimmy," she said sitting on the footstool, "I still have a hard time reconciling that charming man at the awards banquet with the genius you're always complaining about."

Deakins smiled at her. "I hope I don't just complain about him. Goren and Eames may give me more trouble than the rest of the squad put together, but they also make me look better."

Angie smiled and stood up. "Six of one, half dozen of the other. Don't brood--dinner'll be ready soon."

Deakins sighed and leaned back in his chair. He'd almost left his office that evening when Carver called. "Right now," Deakins thought, "I wished I'd  
said I was out." Carver wanted Deakins to know all about the ADA's session with Tagman's victims' families. He wanted Deakins to know, as if he didn't  
have it memorized, how difficult Robert Goren was making life for Carver and the ADA office. And Carver wanted to know, as he had numerous times before, what Captain James Deakins was going to do with Detective Robert Goren.

Deakins took another sip of his drink. "What am I going to do with him?" he thought. Carver was right. Goren had violated procedure; he had flaunted  
authority; he hadn't considered the victims and their families, or worse, he had and had dismissed them. "Maybe," Deakins thought, "Goren got too far in Tagman's head...maybe this is the first sign of real trouble...No," Deakins shook his head, "after the interrogation, when Bobby drew the confession out of Tagman..."

Goren had left the room quietly and stood before Deakins and Carver waiting for...Deakins thought, "waiting for punishment. He paused before he took  
Tagman down the road to his confession...He knew there would be costs, big ones, and he went on..." As Carver seethed beside him--Deakins feared he might have to physically separate the lawyer and the detective--Deakins used all of his control to keep from yelling in Goren's face. "That would have been something," Deakins thought, "Me trying to restrain Goren...but I don't think he would have fought, even if Carver would have risked his suit and come after him..."

Deakins had led Goren into his office and proceeded to remind the detective just how many regulations he had violated. The captain recited a list of Goren's past offenses and threatened him with suspension and any other punishment he could think of. And Deakins performed all of this in a cold fury that had sent many a First Grade Detective and vicious career criminal away cowering. Bobby Goren simply stood before his captain's desk, his eyes downcast. "Well?" Deakins finally asked. "Did you have anything to say?"

Goren had lifted his eyes. He apologized for placing Deakins in the middle, but not for his actions. He agreed Tagman's behavior was monstrous. He expressed sympathy for the victims and their families. But Goren quietly insisted that Tagman didn't deserve the death penalty, that his actions, while clearly horrible, were not the result of a premeditated desire to kill his victims. Goren apologized for the vehemence of his defense of Tagman earlier in the case, but not for the defense. He was willing to accept any punishment Deakins would give. He acknowledged he had violated procedures and created horrible tension between the prosecutor's office and Major Case. But he believed that Tagman didn't warrant the death penalty.

Stonefaced, Deakins had sat in his chair through Goren's quiet explanation. Goren displayed none of the arrogance or rebellion that often accompanied his encounters with Deakins. He was, instead, apologetic and calm. Above all, Deakins sensed Goren wanted to be understood.

"All right, Goren, go write up the report," Deakins dismissed him. "I'll have a decision later."

Goren turned to go, but he hesitated at the door. "Captain..."

"What is it, Goren?" Deakins was angry and wanted the detective to know it.

Goren gripped the door so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "I'm not...I'm not in Tagman's head."

Deakins looked up from the report he was pretending to study.

"I'm not...identifying with him. It's like I said to him...his actions are evil...but he's not...but you need to know...just because I understand him, it  
doesn't mean that I...am him...or even sympathize with him..." Goren stopped.

Deakins studied him for a few moments. The captain saw something in Goren's eyes--a plea for understanding? A need for trust?--he hadn't before.

"All right, Bobby." Deakins' tone was soft, almost that of a father speaking to an unruly son. "Go do that paperwork."

"Yes, sir."

"Jimmy! Dinner!" Angie's voice broke in on Deakins' memories.

"Nearly a month ago," Deakins thought, "and I still haven't figured out what to do with Bobby Goren."

End Chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Standard

Spoilers for Season 4's WANT

Thanks for the kind reviews.

Chapter Three

"O-o-mph! Damn, Alex, who are you mad at?" Lynn Bishop peered around the body bag at Alex Eames.

"Three guesses..."Alex replied as she let loose a flurry of blows.

"Goren..." Bishop said trying to hold the bag steady.

"Robert..." Smack! "O..." Smack! "Goren!" Smack! The bag flew from Bishop's grasp and barely missed hitting Alex on its swing.

"Sorry, Alex...you hit it too hard." Bishop caught her breath. "Damn, what did he do this time?"

"My fault, Lynn...I'm sorry." Alex peeled her gloves off. "Here, I'll hold it for you."

"Don't want to talk about it, uh?" Bishop's tone was neutral and understanding. She knew what it was like to need to use a punching bad in place of Goren, and then five minutes later want to punch anyone who criticized him.

"Yea, not right now...I need to cool down." It was a half truth. Alex wasn't certain of her feelings regarding Robert Goren, at least regarding his recent  
behavior. She realized she felt oddly protective of both Goren and Lynn Bishop, and didn't want to present the younger detective with any evidence that her hero might have feet of clay. "Or that I might not be able to figure him out," Alex thought as she steadied the bag for Bishop.

Alex thought the interrogation was over once they caught Tagman in his lie. She was out the door and in front of the interrogation room's window before she realized Bobby wasn't behind her, but still in the room. "No, Bobby," she thought as she watched him hesitate and then turn to Tagman and his lawyer.

"What's he doing? What is he doing?" Carver muttered.

Alex knew what he was doing. Held by her loyalty to Bobby, she hesitated just long enough for the moment for her to warn Carver and Deakins to pass by. And she watched. Watched as Bobby spun Tagman's brain inside out. Watched as Tagman saw the monster inside himself. Watched as Carver and Deakins seethed. Watched as Bobby opened the Death Row cell and let Tagman out. Watched as an oddly quiet and penitent Bobby stood before Deakins and Carver. And then she couldn't watch, and sought the safety of her desk.

As Bobby and Deakins passed by that desk, Deakins paused for a moment.

"Did you know about that stunt?" Deakins' tone was cold, flat. Alex knew he was beyond anger. She caught a glimpse of Bobby's eyes, suddenly full of fear.

"She didn't..." Bobby began.

"Quiet, Goren, or she's coming in my office too."

Bobby shut up.

"Well, Eames?"

Alex told the truth. "No, sir. I knew Bobby was upset about seeking the death penalty, but nothing else." Had she been less angry, Alex might have a felt a twinge of guilt over leaving Bobby alone to his fate. As it was, she was still slightly troubled by the relief that quickly swept his face.

Bobby was in Deakins' office for a long time, long even by the standards of previous Deakins' chewing outs. Bobby usually emerged from these sessions  
looking like a bashful alter boy caught with gum during Mass, and he and Alex often engaged in a conspiratorial laugh but this time he appeared chastened and quiet.

"He's not getting any comfort from me," Alex thought. "I can't agree with him on this one." She focused on the report in front of her.

Bobby said nothing to her, but slipped behind his desk and began filling out his report. Alex finished her work and started to leave. Bobby's soft voice stopped her.

"Alex, could we talk..."

"I don't think we have anything more to say." Alex gathered her purse and coat.

"Just...just a moment...please..." Bobby's eyes and voice were full of a need Alex couldn't quite identify. As angry as she was, she couldn't reject him completely. "And, after all," she thought, "it's not like he's keeping me from anything..."

Alex sighed. "All right. Let's go to one of the interview rooms."

They stood at opposite ends of the room, a grey coldness filling the space between them. Alex held her coat and purse, ready to make a quick escape. Bobby paced up and down, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You're not going to change my mind, Goren." Alex was performing her trick of looking several feet taller than her actual height.

Bobby paused. "I don't want to change your mind," he said quietly. "I want...want you to understand why...

"Yea, yea, we've been all throught that...you think Tagman didn't mean to kill and hurt...he didn't deserve the death penalty...well, that's not our job,  
Goren."

"I know, Alex, but..." He waved a large hand in frustration. "We've been over that...I respect your opinion..."

"Which is another way of saying I'm wrong." Alex was quietly furious.

"No! Dammit, Alex!" Bobby slammed a hand against the desk.

"That won't intimidate me, Goren. I know all of your tricks."

Bobby paced again. "Look," he said, "I do respect your opinion...I want to agree with you on this...I saw what Tagman did...but I can't. But that's not why I need to talk to you."

"What? You want me to respect your opinion, too? Ok, I do." Alex moved to leave.

"Alex...please...Do you still trust me?" Bobby's voice was pleading.

She stopped. "Trust you?"

"I'm ...I'm not Tagman." Bobby took a deep breath. "Look, I don't care what the rest of the squad, or Carver, or anyone else thinks. But you and Deakins...you have to trust me...I have to know that. Just because I can understand some things about Tagman doesn't mean I excuse them. I don't. And it doesn't mean that I'm lost in his head. I'm not. What makes it possible for me to do this job...to be able to study these people...is knowing...knowing that you're there...for me to..." Bobby had paced within an arm's reach of Alex.

Alex bit her lip. "Yea," she said softly. "I trust you...I've always trusted you."

Bobby let out a huge breath.

"I'm still really angry with you, though."

Bobby nodded. "I...understand that. I'm pretty angry with myself. I never...I'm sorry you got caught in any of this...I was terrified Deakins was going to haul you in his office with me."

Alex smiled. "Yea, I saw that. How bad was it in there?"

The air in the room was several degrees warmer and the atmosphere considerably lighter.

Bobby winced. "Well, it wasn't one of the more pleasant moments of my life. But I deserved it...and I still have his trust, too."

"We're good?" Alex said quietly.

"Yea," Bobby answered. "We're good...Alex?"

"Yea." Her hand was on the door.

"Why...everyone was so gung ho on the death penalty for Tagman...why him instead of...well, say the painter who killed the four women?" Bobby's tone was completely curious and without confrontation.

"I don't know about anyone else," Alex said, "but for me it seemed there was no reason for Tagman to do what he did. The painter...well, he was horribly abused as a kid...and we needed to find the bodies."

"That's what I thought...I don't think Tagman knows the reason either..." Bobby sat on the edge of the table. "Thank you, Alex."

"Well, maybe they'll find the reason," Alex said. "It's ok, Bobby. Just give me a weekend to cool down." She gave him a half smile.

"Well," Alex thought as she held the bag for Bishop to attack, "we won't find the reason now...Tagman's cellmates saw to that...and his victim is still in her prison..."

"Hey, Alex," Bishop gasped, "could you give the bag a little slack?"

"Sorry," Alex said.

Bishop leaned against the bag to catch her breath. "Goren, again?"

"Yea, Goren again."

End Chapter 3


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Nurse?" The man in his sixties approached the nurse's station cautiously.

"Yes, sir? Is everything all right with your daughter?" The nurse readied to move from behind the desk.

"Oh, yes...she's well...better than in some time actually. My wife and I just noticed...there are some flowers in the room...some chocolates...and where did that little CD player come from?"

"You know, I'm not sure. I noticed those things in the room as well, especially the flowers...let me check with Jenna...she was on duty this weekend. Maybe she knows something."

At the mention of her name, Jenna turned from her filing. "Oh, yes...late on Sunday afternoon. This gentleman--and I mean gentleman, very polite and quiet--came by with the stuff. He just wanted to drop it off, but I let him take it in the room. He stayed a few moments...just took your daughter's hand and said a few words."

"He didn't leave a name...or say why he came?" the father asked.

"No," Jenna replied. "I'm sorry...I didn't think to ask...he seemed very familiar with your daughter...I thought he was a relative or friend...or someone from her work. He was a big guy, around 6"4'...40s...Again, I'm sorry..."

"No, it's all right," the father replied. "I'm sure you're right...he must be a friend or coworker. I don't recognize anyone from your description. Whoever it was, it was very kind of them."

Late the next Saturday, the benefactor appeared again, bearing more flowers and chocolates as well as several CDs and other gifts. Jenna was again on duty, and she again escorted him to the young woman's room.

"Her parents were very grateful, but puzzled," Jenna said quietly as she adjusted the patient's bed. "If you don't mind me asking, who are you?"

The visitor spoke quietly, but the bedridden young woman turned towards his voice and smiled. "I was...am...involved with her legal case."

Jenna studied him. "A lawyer?"

The visitor smiled. "No, fortunately, not a lawyer." he turned his head towards the bed. "How is she?"

"She's good physically...we do physical therapy everyday with her...and her muscle tone is very good...she must have been very active before..." Jenna said.

"Yes," the visitor said. "She went to the gym nearly every day...her only vice was chocolate...and even that had to be the best and she'd work out after eating it." He studied the young woman. "How is her mental state?"

"She's more responsive, especially to music. We also do cognitive therapy with her. She recognizes some words...she recognizes her name...and she can use the toilet with help."

"Small things," the man said sadly.

"Maybe," Jenna replied, "but it makes an enormous difference in the quality of her life."

The man rested a hand over his mouth. "Will...will she get better?"

Jenna sighed. "Well, I've seen some miracles, and she's already accomplished much more than anyone thought she could when she first came here, but in my experience she's probably as good as she ever will be."

The man blinked. Jenna thought he might be trying to hide tears. "Could I...stay for a few minutes...read to her?" he asked.

"Well, technically visiting hours are ending...but go ahead...it's good for her," Jenna said. The man nodded, pulled up a chair to the bed, and, taking a book from the bag he brought with him, began to read.

It was the start of a pattern. The weekend nurses came to expect and even welcome his appearance. He arrived, apologizing for the timing of his visits, late on Saturday or Sunday. He brought music, flowers, expensive chocolates, and would stay an hour or so. Usually he read aloud to the young woman, or gently spoke to her. Sometimes he would hand Jenna or another nurse an article or report on brain injuries to give to the young woman's parents or doctors. He made a point of avoiding the parents or any other visitors. Arriving once when the young woman's parents were in her room, he handed his offerings to the nurses and fled. He politely but deftly turned away any questions. When he didn't make his weekly visit, he sent flowers, but the young woman clearly missed him on those days. The patient's parents and other visitors had no idea who he was, and his identity became the subject of much speculation. An air of sadness seemed to hover over him, and it seemed to come from far more than his feelings about the object of his visits.

The nurses and the rest of the rehabilitation institute's staff began to piece together what evidence they had regarding who he might be. The patient had occasionally asked after someone named Robert. One of the orderlies, who occasionally worked a shift there, thought he had seen the visitor at the nearby Carmel Ridge hospital. The staff argued. Was he a boyfriend? A co-worker? Some long lost relative? But it was Jenna who discovered the final pieces of the puzzle.

One Saturday he arrived later than usual, more apologetic and sadder than usual. He was dressed in a suit and tie, and looked as if it had been some time since he had slept. His ever present stubble was darker and heavier, and Jenna, not for the first time, felt enormous sympathy for this kind man. And then she saw the gun.

"What's that?" she said with rising alarm. Jenna moved to hit the security button.

The man stared at the offending item. "Damn," he muttered softly, "I forgot...Please, wait...I'm a police officer...it's all right...here..." He showed her an impressive gold badge.

"That could be fake," Jenna said, her hand poised over the button.

The man sighed. "Ok, but please...don't tell her parents...anyone..." He pulled out an ID that identified him as New York City Police Detective Robert Goren.

End Chapter 4


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Bobby sat quietly in Deakins' office, the only sign of his usual restlessness a slight shake in his right foot. Alex sat equally quiet but more relaxed at his left. Carver was in his customary perch on Deakins' desk.

"Am I getting this right?" Deakins asked from behind his desk. "We're all in agreement on this one?"

Carver, Alex, and Bobby shared a look.

"It appears we are," Carver replied with some amusement.

"I'm good," Alex said.

"Uh, yeah," Bobby said.

Carver stood to leave.

"Not that I don't appreciate the calm," Deakins said with a slight smile, "but are you all ok?"

Carver, Alex, and Bobby gave Deakins a slightly surprised look.

"It's been happening a lot lately...the three of you agreeing on things. Makes me wonder if you've all caught the same bug." Deakins was amused. "Again, I certainly don't mind it."

"Your detectives," Carver replied smoothly, "have been especially clear and concise lately."

"And the ADA's office has been especially cooperative of late," Alex replied with a grin.

"Well, keep it up," Deakins said. "Makes my life easier."

"Oh," Carver said, "I do have some information you might be interested in...the Tagman survivor..."

"I'm not sure I'd call her a survivor," Alex said quietly.

Bobby was suddenly very still.

"You know how to destroy a good mood, Mr. Carver," Deakins said. The Tagman case created rips that were finally nearly healed in the relationships between Carver and the detectives, Deakins and Eames and Goren, and even Goren and Eames. "At least, I hope they're nearly healed," Deakins thought.

"It's actually good news, or relatively good news," Carver said. "Her parents contacted my office. Their daughter is doing much better than her doctors hoped or anticipated. She's been accepted as a patient at a rehabilitative institution in California that has several experimental programs. They have family in the area, so the move is good for everyone. They're leaving in a few days and wanted my office and the police to know in case we needed them."

"It's good she's doing well," Alex said. Bobby stared out the window.

"And," Carver said, "They wanted the police department to know that they appreciated its special interest in their daughter."

Bobby stiffened.

"Special interest?" Deakins asked.

"Apparently an officer visited their daughter...I'm not sure of the specifics." Carver and Deakins both looked at Alex.

"Hey, not me, guys. I'd like to be able to follow-up on victims, but I can't," Alex said. "Maybe someone from the victims' assistance program?"

Bobby stood up suddenly. "I...I...just remembered...I have to check something...Sorry..." He rumbled past Carver with the grace of a rhino.

"He still refuses to deal with the consequences of his actions..." Carver began.

Alex opened her mouth to protest, but Deakins spoke before her.

"He's fully aware of those consequences, Mr. Carver. I didn't agree with his position on the case, but he accepted his reprimand. And one of the reasons things have been working so smoothly around here is that Goren has been working very hard to make that happen."

Carver considered Deakins' words. "I understand and appreciate that," he said quietly. "It's just that...that...I had to deal with the families." Carver's tone was not confrontational. "I don't think Goren understood...or understands...that perhaps the victims occasionally..."

"He doesn't lose sight of the victims," Alex said quietly. "Look, I disagreed with him on this one...it came as close as anything has to...well, it was tough..." She stood up and looked at both Deakins and Carver. "He didn't, he doesn't forget the victims...Sometimes he remembers them too much...If he ever does forget them, I'll be gone. And he knows that."

Carver regarded Alex gravely. "I accept your assessment, detective," he said. "I just wish," Carver said ruefully, "Detective Goren would appreciate my position occasionally."

"I think we all wish that," Deakins said.

"I wish he'd appreciate his own position sometimes," Alex said.

Alex returned to her desk just as Bobby finished a phone call. "Something is definitely wrong," she thought. For a few moments he, shielding his eyes with a large hand, sat across from her. Alex pretended to deeply study a report.

"Alex," Bobby finally said.

"H-m-m?" Alex replied.

"I...I have to go...talk to someone...it's a follow-up on a case..." Bobby stood up and gathered his binder.

"What case? Want me to go with you?" Alex sensed that, while Bobby wasn't lying, he wasn't telling the entire truth either.

"No...no need for you to waste your time...just a couple of points I need to clear up...could you cover for me with Deakins?" He avoided her eyes.

"Bobby," Alex said firmly, "what's going on?"

He stood fumbling with his binder. "Please, Alex...it...it is a follow-up, of sorts, anyway...I really need to...It's nothing bad...it won't blow up in your face."

"Will it blow up in yours?" she asked gently.

Bobby smiled at her. "Oh, everything blows up in my face, Alex. I live for it. You should know that by now." He grew serious. "Please, trust me on this one..."

Alex hesitated.

"Lunch?" Bobby offered.

"Bribing me, Goren?"

"You bet."

"Dinner. Expensive. We get to dress up."

"Deal."

"And I get the Santa mug for a month."

Bobby frowned. "Ok."

After Bobby left Alex tried to bury her curiosity in her paperwork. She was failing miserably when the phone rang.

"Eames, Major Case," she answered.

"Oh, I'm sorry… I'm trying to reach Robert Goren..."

"I can take a message..."

"Well, this is the Carmel Ridge Neurological Rehabilitation Unit. Mr. Goren wanted to know if a patient of ours would be having visitors this afternoon. Could you let him know that we've just learned her parents will be stopping by?"

END Chapter 5


	6. Chapter 6

One of the reasons I wrote this fic was that I thought that I understood and even agreed with Bobby's viewpoint regarding John Tagman and the death penalty. I also wanted to make the point that just because Bobby understands WHY someone commits a horrible crime, it doesn't mean that Bobby excuses the crime or that he's one step away from being like the criminal.

Thanks, as always, for the reviews.

Yes, it is horribly convenient that the girl is at a facility near where Bobby's mother is. I grant that.

Disclaimer: Standard

Some months after season 4's WANT

Chapter Six

Bobby arrived at the rehabilitation center in the middle of the afternoon. He parked his car and pocketed his keys. His previous visits to the center had been late on weekend days; this was his first and, he realized, would be his only, during a weekday.

"I'm glad you could come," the nurse at the station said. "She's leaving tomorrow. She's in the sunroom." The nurse pointed down the hall.

The center was far more alive in the afternoon than in the evening. Bobby tried not to be depressed by the patients struggling with impaired brains. "They're getting better," he thought to himself. "They're fighting...this is a place of hope...It's not a warehouse like...like the place my mother..." He shook his head to clear the dark thoughts.

She sat in a wheelchair in front of the large window that offered a full view of several birdfeeders. Bobby approached her carefully and touched her gently on the shoulder. If he knew anything, it was how to not frighten an ill person.

She was delighted to see him. "Robert!" she said, drawing out every letter in his name. Puzzled, she looked out the window. "Sun?"

He smiled at her. Her vocabulary was still horribly limited, but growing. "I know," he said softly as he knelt before her and took her hand, "I usually come at night. I wanted to see you..." Bobby paused. He had no idea how much she understood of what was happening and would happen to her.

"Choc...chocolate?" she asked hopefully.

"No...sorry..not this time," Bobby said. He hadn't thought to stop on his way.

"Room," she said forcefully.

As Bobby wheeled her back to her room several patients waved and smiled at her. One of the orderlies teased her about finally getting to meet her mystery boyfriend and told her he'd miss her. She returned the smiles and waves and laughed at the orderly. When they arrived in her room she pointed at her side table. Bobby helped her from the chair to her bed--he was happy to note that her muscle tone appeared strong. He opened the drawer on the table and found a few chocolates from his last offering. He unwrapped one and handed it to her. She carefully placed it in her mouth and savored it.

When she finished the piece she pointed at the drawer.

Bobby shook his head. "Not too much," he said. "You could get sick."

She frowned, and look of confusion and fear crossed her face. Bobby had seen it before. The nurses believed that she occasionally remembered part of what had happened to her. She raised a trembling hand to her head.

"Hurt," she said. "He...hurt..."

"I know," Bobby said in his softest and gentlest voice. He took her hand in both of his and stroked it tenderly. "He won't hurt you anymore."

Her agitation eased as he spoke to her and held her hand. She stared into his eyes until Bobby was forced to look down. He looked up when she squeezed his hand. She was smiling.

"Mom...Mommy...Dad...Daddy!"

Bobby's blood froze.

End Chapter 6


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

"Run," Bobby thought. "Just run." But his compulsion to do what was right, as well as the practical side of his brain, squelched the impulse. He stood up, hands behind him, his head bowed, unconsciously adopting the same posture he used when confronting Deakins and Carver after Tagman's confession.

He faced a man and woman in their sixties. They were dressed for physical work and each carried several boxes. They looked at him with a mixture of surprise and puzzlement. The woman spoke first.

"The mystery man," she said softly.

"Yes, ma'am..." Bobby replied. A thousand thoughts ran through his head. Leading them was "They're what's important...not you..you got yourself in this mess...you have to deal with this..."

"I recognize you," the man said. "You ...were in the courtroom when..."

"Oh no," Bobby thought. "They'll know..." He swallowed. "I was," he said, "one of the detectives on the case...I should go...I'm sure you have a great  
deal to do..."

It wasn't going to be that easy. "Please," the mother said, "you've done so much...we would have never known about this place in California without you...and all of these things you've done..."

"It...I have someone who's in a hospital near here...it was no trouble..." Bobby ran his hand through his hair. "Don't tell them...don't..." he thought.

"It's not the usual thing, is it?" the father asked. "For the New York City Police Department?"

"No," Bobby said. "Like I said, I found out she was near, and it was just...it wasn't an inconvenience..."

The mother sensed his discomfort. "We appreciate it a great deal...the nurses say you've been a great help to her...Would you mind helping us pack some of her things?"

Bobby jumped at the chance to divert the subject. For several minutes he and the parents filled a few boxes with the young woman's few belongings. At one point Bobby found himself outside the clinic alone with the father.

"Were you there...when...when that thing confessed?" the father asked.

Bobby focused his attention on one of the many birdfeeders. "Yes...yes sir."

"Why? Why did he do this?" The man's pain radiated from him. It prevented him from noticing Bobby's pain.

"He...he didn't know." Bobby was unsure how much he should tell the father.

"I'm still furious with that slick lawyer from the District Attorney's office. Wouldn't even try for the death penalty." The father's voice dripped with venom.

Bobby felt the need to defend Carver. "He didn't have a choice," Bobby said quietly. "I can tell you that Mr. Carver was pursuing this case as hard as he could. He wanted the death penalty...very badly. But once Tagman confessed...well...it's very difficult to get the death penalty...much more than people realize...and with the confession...please, don't blame Mr. Carver..." Bobby stopped. "No," he thought, "blame me...I'm the one..."

The father sighed. "What was he like...this monster?" he asked.

"That was the scary thing," Bobby said. "He wasn't a monster...he did monstrous things, but he wasn't a monster."

The father looked sharply at Bobby and shook his head. "That's a division I can't make."

"Yes sir, I can understand that. And you shouldn't have to." Bobby considered if confessing his role would help anyone beyond easing his own conscience.

The decision was taken from him when the mother emerged from the clinic.

"That's everything we can get right now," she said. "They're about to serve dinner. Would you like to join us, Mr. Goren?"

"No, I really need to go."

"Thank you...so much...you're a good man." She gave Bobby a hug. She couldn't have hurt him more if she had stabbed him in the heart. "We'll let you know how she's doing," she said as she released him.

"Thank you." Bobby was amazed that his voice sounded calm. "I'd appreciate that...you can reach me through the department or Mr. Carver's office."

The father extended his hand. "Yes, thank you." Bobby felt his heart shred. They shook hands. Bobby, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, watched the two walked into the center. He turned to walk to his car. He stopped suddenly a few steps from it.

"Hey," Alex said.

End Chapter 7


	8. Chapter 8

The final chapter.

Chapter 8

"Hey," Bobby said. He had no defenses left. "I see you've lived up to the high reputation of a First Grade NYPD detective."

"I should have figured it out in Deakins' office," Alex said.

Bobby stepped closer. He had no concern for his reputation. His only desire now was to try to save the partnership. "I guess no one expected I would..." He looked at Alex.

"It wasn't that great a bit of detective work...the institute called back after you left to tell you about the parents coming...I wanted to warn you, but your cell was off." Alex felt a mix of anger, sympathy, and fear. She hopped up to sit on the hood of her car. "So what the hell are you doing Goren?"

Bobby stood, head down, hands at his side. "I don't," he said after a long pause, "know what I'm doing."

"Did you run into the parents? Was it bad?"

Bobby leaned against his car. "It was...uncomfortable."

"They were angry?"

"No," Bobby stared at his hands. "They were grateful...and puzzled...they didn't know..."

"That you got the confession from Tagman?" Alex was calm, noncommittal.

Bobby tried to measure her mood. "They knew I was there...they were very angry at Carver...I have a much greater appreciation for him now...It's hard, to deal with the families...when they want some kind of justice...I tried to tell them it wasn't his fault...but..." Bobby gazed into space. "I didn't know  
if I should tell them...it seemed to me that it might hurt them more if they knew it was me that..." Bobby fidgeted with his car keys. "And the only benefit I saw in telling them was maybe making me feel better...and it wasn't about me."

"Big of you, Goren." Alex was not inclined to give Bobby a break.

Bobby winced. "Damn, Eames," he said softly. "I know...this was stupid...but...please..."

"Well, what did you expect to get from this?" Alex asked. "Some kind of emotional forgiveness? Penance? What?"

"I...I don't know...it..." Bobby paced in the space between his and Alex's cars. "It started...one of the doctors...there's a doctor who's on the staff here and at my mom's hospital...he's interested in the connection between brain injuries and mental illness...and I just asked him if there was some way...and he found a place for this girl..." He ceased pacing and looked desperately at Alex. "I just wanted to check on her...it's only ten minutes from the hospital...and...she seemed so lonely...and I started bringing her things...and I started reading to her...and it was quiet and peaceful...and she...she was getting better...not like my mom..."

A horrible thought struck Bobby. "Oh, God..." His hand came to his mouth. "The only women I've had in my life for the past two years have been you, my mom...and this girl...maybe I'm wrong...maybe I'm more like Tagman..."

Alex jumped from her car and grabbed Bobby's face in her hands. "Listen to me, Robert Goren!" She was quietly furious. "You are not Tagman...or anything like him...what you did here...it may have been stupid, but it helped this girl and her family...and you didn't do it for yourself...you did it for her."

Bobby tried to pull away from Alex, but found he lacked the strength. And somewhere, deep inside, he found her touch comforting and thrilling. And, in  
spite of her anger, Alex felt the echoes of feelings in her body and heart she thought long lost.

"Bobby," Alex said urgently, "you wanted Deakins and me to trust you...we do...but you have to trust yourself..."

Bobby raised his hands to cover Alex's hands. "You...you still trust me?"

Alex nodded. "Yes...I still don't agree with you on Tagman...but I trust you."

His hands tightened on hers. They had never touched each other this way, this long, even when working undercover. "Even," Bobby said, "with this stunt?"

"It's one of the curses of the job, Bobby. We gotta care to do it, we can't do it if we care too much. We all slip on the tightrope...if you did slip here, it  
was in the right direction." Alex let her hands slip off Bobby's face. He continued to hold them as they fell in front of her.

Alex could hear the subtle chirps of birds, the hum of traffic from the highway. Time was suspended; even the sun seemed halted on the horizon. Her heart seemed to be beating in time with Bobby's. Bobby smelled the sweet pea vine at the edge of the parking lot, the faint perfume Alex wore. His breaths came in time with Alex's.

"Hey! Everything all right over there!" A security guard called from the end of the row.

Alex and Bobby separated. "Everything's fine!" Alex called back.

The officer waved and went on his rounds.

"Parking lots," Bobby said, "are not the best places for confrontations."

There was a silence, not entirely comfortable, but not awkward.

"So, Goren, there a good place to eat around here?" Alex broke the silence.

"You're always hungry, Eames...before cases, during cases, after cases," Bobby said. "How is it you never gain weight?"

She grinned. "I burn all the calories worrying about you."

Bobby smiled at her. "I know a good place...diner...has good pie..."

"Sounds good," Alex replied as she moved to her car. "But it doesn't get you out of that expensive dinner."

"Understood," Bobby said as he unlocked his car. "Just follow me." He paused. "Eames?"

She turned from her car. "Yea?"

"We're ok?"

"Yea, we're ok."

The End.


End file.
